


I'm Bored, Let's Have Dinner

by pandashurley



Series: The Secret Lives [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cum Fetish, Cum Play, D/s relationship, Humiliation, M/M, Public Sex, Red Pants, Sub!John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2012-12-31
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pandashurley/pseuds/pandashurley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part two of The Secret Life of One, John Hamish Watson. Sherlock takes him out to dinner, but it wasn't the dinner John was expecting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Bored, Let's Have Dinner

**Author's Note:**

> Lotsa porn. Some of the dialogue might have some trigger behind it.

It wasn't so much the sitting that was uncomfortable, it had been the walking. Sherlock had made the cabbie stop two blocks from the place they were going to have dinner and made John walk. Not just made him walk, but made him walk alone. The bruises and the all over exerted nature of his muscles had made it hard enough. It was the fact that he had been mercilessly fucked over the last few hours, was filled with cum and had a plug inside of him to keep as much of Sherlock inside as possible. John had walked around with plugs and dildos and vibrators before, but it wasn't nearly this personal or this important to him.

Despite the years of submission, John had always felt incomplete. Sure, his Dom's had been wonderful, supportive and cruel with all the best intentions. There was something different about Sherlock Holmes. Hell, if he was really asked to admit it, there had always been something different about the tall lanky git. Not just in the 'he's a little abnormal' sense, but in the 'this guy is mind blowingly amazing and complex and just...ugh'. Truth be told, John had kept his crush a secret for the longest time.  
It all came back to that first time meeting at 221b, watching Sherlock leave and feeling so helpless and left behind because of some dumb phantom pain in his leg. No matter how many Doms he saw, they never got the limp to go away. Sure, he would probably forget about it during a particularly heinous session, but as soon as significant weight was put back on it, the limp was back. It was genuinely surprising to hear Sherlock come back and even more so when he was asked to come along. "God, yes." Wasn't ever meant to sound as sexual as it was, but he forgot about it when the great Sherlock Holmes had failed to notice. In the span of 24 hours, John had found someone who didn't make him feel so useless. So broken. So pointless. He had found, for all intents and purposes, his soul mate.

That sure as hell didn't stop him from blushing furiously when he entered the restaurant and saw that Sherlock had gotten a table all the way in the back. As if it weren't bad enough he had to walk like a geisha for the last two blocks. John steeled himself with a deep breath and took determined, long strides back to his smarmy soul mate. More than anything, John found himself wanting to slap that smug look of his damn face. Or kiss it off. Or do something to him that would make that smirk turn into a moan. Anything but that damn look. John slid silently into the booth, willing the red in his face to fade. It only got worse as Sherlock stood up out of his chair to slide in right next to him.

Sherlock had pulled them both into the shower after the endless hours of orgasms. After plugging him up of course. He had been so caring and gentle, washing John. Massaging his scalp, softly washing his skin and kissing where small fingertip sized bruises had been left behind. He had fiddled with the plug a little, getting John half hard but stopping without the promise for more. God this man was maddening. Sherlock had wrapped him in a towel at his waist, kissed him softly on the lips and bounded up to his room, presumably picking out a set of clean clothes. Sherlock placed a bundle of clothes on his lap and stalked off to his room, a huge smile on his face. John looked through the clothes.

"Sherlock? Where are my pants?" John called, a little uncertainty filtering softly into his voice. He heard light foot falls behind him and looked over his shoulder.

"I want you to wear these, John." He was smiling but his eyes were flashing dangerously, full of desire and mischief. From behind his back, Sherlock produced a pair of deep crimson briefs. "I saw them and thought of how amazing they would look against your skin." Sherlock said happily. John looked up at him with a mixture of confusion and thanks. At least it wasn't a thong or something else unholy, like other Doms had forced him through. John stood up slowly and carefully, taking the red pants from Sherlock's hands and slid them on gently. They were a perfect fit.

"It wasn't a guess." Sherlock said simply, turning John slightly to get a better look at his arse. He gave John's arse a little slap, causing the plug to shift inside of him and making the soldier shiver. A low predatory chuckle fell from Sherlock's lips. He wrapped a thin arm around John's waist and pulled him close, pressing their bodies flush together. John was lost in the scent of Sherlock, lost in the power flashing behind his eyes. Sherlock leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to John's lips. "You look stunning. Though I do prefer you better naked and screaming..." He said with another playful kiss before pulling away to go get dressed himself.

Sherlock had brought him a pair of well fitting jeans and his black and white striped jumper. John was lacing up his shoes as Sherlock strode out of his room, looking perfect as usual. He had also chosen jeans, black, and John almost had to wipe drool from his mouth. Those jeans with that slightly purple button down turned Sherlock into something positively sinful. Gorgeous and sinful. He obviously had no intention of making this easy, but when did Sherlock ever simplify anything? John was reaching for his coat when Sherlock grabbed his arm, gently but still firmly. John looked up at him questioningly. Sherlock was right in front of him, smiling softly.

"John..." He said, bringing up a hand to stroke John's cheek. "You trust me, don't you?" Sherlock asked quietly, circling his long arms around the soldiers waist. John just nodded. "You know I would never intentionally go to far..." Sherlock continued. "If I ever do, however, you need to let me know. Calmly and rationally, yes?"

"Are you asking me for a safe word?" John asked quietly. Sherlock shook his head and chuckled a little.

"No, John. We're both too rational for something as superfluous as that. I want you to tell me honestly if whatever I am doing is too much for you..." Sherlock kissed him again. Lips full of promise and caring and love. John leaned into the kiss before he felt Sherlock's hand twine into his hair and rip his head backwards. Sherlock licked a stripe up his neck before biting and kissing his ear.

"I'm bored, John. Let's have dinner." He murmured in that low voice that was just pure sex. John shivered from the words as much as he suddenly missed the feeling of that warm body pressed against his own. Sherlock was already putting on his scarf and coat, handing a very stunned John a coat for himself. John slid it on before Sherlock grabbed his hand and let him out of the flat.

Sherlock hailed a cab and in completely un-Holmesian fashion, opened the door and gestured John inside. John blushed as the plug shifted as he scooted in towards the other window. He looked at Sherlock, frowning slightly at the smirk that was plastered on the man's face. Sherlock gave the address, and the cab began to move. As they went around one turn, Sherlock used it as an excuse to pull John closer to him and lean in towards his ear.

"How does it feel, John? That plug just shifting around inside you? I'm sure if you angled right..." The arm around John's shoulders shifted him forwards, causing the plug to rub up against his prostate, eliciting a shiver from the soldier. A small moan escaped Sherlock's lips, causing John to shiver again and he had to fight to catch the moan in his throat. Sherlock eased off the pressure and his lips were again at John's ear. "So responsive, John." Wet heat on the shell of his ear and John was forced to put his hands in his lap. Sherlock chuckled before clearing his throat. He ordered the cabbie to stop and went back to John's ear. He whispered the name of the restaurant and while reaching over to open Johns door, palmed the half hard erection in his pants and disentangled himself. John looked out the open door and back to Sherlock, who simply nodded. John slid himself out of the cab, shut the door behind him and watched the cab pull away.

Now, in the back of the restaurant with Sherlock's musk and freshly showered skin invading his senses, he was all but hopeless. John could feel heat just radiating off of Sherlock's body and his hands were twitching to run themselves over the material of that sexy shirt. This was torture, John thought. If it wouldn't get them arrested, John would want to be bent over that table being filled by Sherlock. He shivered again and took a deep breath, which didn't actually help since everything right now was Sherlock. The taste of the air, the smell, the physical tension between the two of them, keeping them locked in this stalemate. John almost jumped when Sherlock leaned forward, spreading one hand out on John's knee.

"You are thinking very loudly, John." He chided in his lowest register. "And you're quivering." John could sense the smirk. "I am in complete agreement, but I did say dinner. If I wanted to fuck you more, we would have just ordered take away." Sherlock finished with a well placed kiss behind John's ear. John took a slight glance around the room, confirming that no one was paying attention... not that it really mattered.

"It's not my fault you dressed like a sex god." John whispered back, covering Sherlock's hand on his knee with his own.

"Let's both be thankful this isn't a disguise then." Sherlock murmured. If John had been standing, his knees would have gone to jelly. Both of their attentions were momentarily stolen as a waitress approached their table. Sherlock turned to her, ordered for the both of them, including a bottle of wine and turned his attentions back to John. The waitress smiled at John, who returned the smile, before she left.

"There is so much time to make up for, John." Sherlock whispered, sliding his hand up John's denim clad thigh, the constant shift in heat making John want to scoot closer.

"Oh, is that so?" John asked, genuinely curious. Sherlock chuckled and started to rub little circles with his thumb on John's inner thigh. That had was so close, if John could just shift...

"I have a whole wing of my mind palace dedicated to you, John." Sherlock pulled away slightly to look John in the eyes. John was completely shocked. Sherlock looked... vulnerable almost, searching John's eyes for an answer. John was scanning through his own mind, wondering what he was going to say.

"Sherlock... I..." John started, his hand squeezing Sherlock's a little tighter. "I guess I never realized..." John trailed off, looking deep into his detectives eyes.

"I know you didn't..." Sherlock said quietly, his eyes looking away from John's face. John caught his chin with his free hand, forcing Sherlock's gaze back to him. John looked at him for a moment before pressing a small kiss to Sherlock's lips. Sherlock's hand tightened on John's thigh before he broke the kiss. "I know precisely how to show you what I mean." Sherlock slid himself backward and John watched incredulously as he walked toward the bathroom, shooting John a pointed look before he entered.  
John looked around the restaurant, checking to see if anyone had seen their rather public display. They obviously didn't care and John carefully slid out of the booth and headed toward the bathroom. It was a one person bathroom and before he could even hear the door shut, Sherlock was pressing him up against a wall and forcing his tongue through John's lips to tangle with his own. The moan that came out of Sherlock was one of heady desire and too much longing and John almost melted against the wall. Sherlock broke the kiss to go lock the door. He paused at the door and turned around.

"John..." He said quietly, hunger filling the air. "I'm going to take you. I'm going to bend you over that sink and have you..." Sherlock's eyes flashed dangerously. "But you're going to have to be quiet, I can't have anyone interrupting me." He finished with a smirk. John was trembling as Sherlock approached him and pinned him against the wall again. John was already half hard, but his eyes popped open when he felt Sherlock's hard cock pressing into his thigh. It was John's turn to smile.

"You like it in public..." John realized. "You like the excitement of maybe getting caught, don't you, master?" John said as he ran a hand up Sherlock's still annoying clothed chest. A low rumble that could be labeled a growl rumbled deep inside of him. John's head spun as he felt more blood rush from his head and he realized how painfully hard he suddenly was. Sherlock captured his mouth and licked into him hungrily, eliciting the moans he wanted before kissing down John's jaw and down his neck.

"I'm going to fuck you again, and then we're going to have dinner..." Sherlock explained between kisses, desperate fingers undoing John's jeans. "Then I'm going to take you home and have you again... Because I know how hungry you are for it." Sherlock whispered, one hand finally reaching into John's jeans and stroking his cock through those blood red pants. John was moaning softly, shallowly thrusting his hips into Sherlock's touch. He heard a small chuckle and paused. "Such a little whore..." Sherlock whispered before latching onto his neck to suck and bite. John groaned, fighting to stay quiet. Sherlock pulled away from John, leaving a teasing hand still in the front of his jeans. "If you can't stay quiet on your own, I have ways to fix that." Sherlock warned before slipping his hand under John's pants and wrapping those cool, long fingers around John's hot, hard cock.

"Yes, master. I understand, master." John breathed harshly. 

"Mmm, what a good little pet." Sherlock hummed in appreciation. Slowly he started to move his hand and John responded by pumping into his hand softly. John moaned in protest as that hand slowly pulled itself away. John didn't even have to be told and realized his hands were already working on Sherlock's belt and jeans. John pulled them down slightly and slid his hand inside. Sherlock was hard, and pants less. John almost chuckled in surprise, but couldn't bring himself to do it. No pants was insanely hot, especially on this man who was just dripping sex at this point. John placed a soft hand on Sherlock's belly and pushed him back slightly. Confusion flashed over the taller man's face before shock as John sunk to his knees. A soft moan escaped Sherlock as John ran his tongue over the slit of Sherlock's cock and giving it a gentle kiss. John kneeled there for a moment before locking eyes with Sherlock. John held his gaze for a split second before winking and licking a hot wet stripe up the underside of Sherlock's cock before closing his mouth over the head and flicking his tongue over his slit again, tasting precum. Sherlock bit back a louder moan as John started to swallow his cock inch by inch.

"Fucking hell, John. You will never understand how pretty you look with your mouth full of my cock..." Sherlock said, weaving his fingers into John's hair and starting to slightly thrust his hips. John moaned around his cock, drawing a shiver out of the detective. "Yes, John. Get me rock hard, let me pull out that plug, and fuck that stretched out little hole." Sherlock's hips sped up. John gagged slightly, but he wasn't going to stop giving Sherlock what he wanted. Just as long as he didn't stop talking. Sherlock wrapped his hand in John's hair a little tighter and pulled him off his cock. John felt Sherlock's hand cup against his cheek and a soft thumb ran across his lips. "Your mouth looks beautiful all red, chapped and spit slicked from sucking my cock..." Sherlock whispered, giving a sharp tug on his hair and John pushed himself to standing.

Sherlock pressed him into the wall again, their cocks touching briefly before Sherlock tucked him back in his pants. John moaned unhappily as Sherlock turned him around. He hooked his fingers in John's jeans and pulled them down around his knees. Sherlock moaned softly as he ran his hand over John's firm ass, giving it a small squeeze before hooking his fingers into the waist band of his red pants. Sherlock slowly slid them down, pressing soft kisses to the exposed skin and stopping when he got the back of John's pants at the top of his thighs. John gasped as he felt the plug shift. Sherlock was pushing on it softly.

"Are you sore, John? Is that poor little hole too fucked out to take me again?" Sherlock whispered. John whimpered in response. Sherlock chuckled softly. John knew how much he liked it when John played helpless. "You know, the only thing about this that I am sad to see is the waste of cum I've kept plugged up inside of you." Sherlock said, grasping the base of the plug and slowly starting to pull it out and push it back into John. John bit into his arm to stifle the moan. He was a little sore, but they hadn't reached John's stopping point yet. "I suppose the upside is I didn't even need to bring lubrication, you'll be all wet from all of my cum already inside of you..." John moaned.

Sherlock finally started to pull the plug out of him and the stretch was incredible. John was biting into his arm against the pleasure that was pulling him apart and once it was finally out, he shivered. Sherlock moaned and before he could even breathe to recover, Sherlock was pressing up against him and sliding in effortlessly. Sherlock moaned and pressed his fingers sharply into John's hips before he pulled out slowly and pushed back in again. 

"Gods, John..." Sherlock breathed, pulling out slowly and pushing in equally slowly. "You're so wet, so hot... so good..." John moaned softly. Sherlock was going agonizingly slowly but John was reveling in every moment. Sherlock was so hot and stretching him open, it felt so familiar and so perfect. Sherlock started picking up the pace. "I want you to cum in these pants, John." John moaned and nodded. A loud slap echoed through the bathroom and John moaned at the sharp pain on his ass. 

"Yes, master. Whatever you want, master." John answered quickly, starting to slide himself back onto Sherlock's cock. Their pace was increasing, this was obviously a turn on for the both of them because in seconds, what had started out as sweet and slow had turned into rough and hard fucking. John was dying just to scream out and he was so close already. The things Sherlock had been saying, being plugged up it was all hitting him at the same time and he felt himself start to clench. Sherlock bit back a loud moan and hissed, snapping his hips even faster to catch up to his partner.

"Not until I say so, John." Sherlock bit out even as his own thrusts started to become erratic. Moments later, John felt a hand in his hair and Sherlock could only grunt out a single command before John felt himself coming hot and messy into his own pants. Sherlock slammed a few more times before John felt him cum hot and hard inside of him. Both men gasping for air and holding on to one another. Sherlock cleared his throat and leaned closer to John. "I'm not putting the plug back in, John. Don't clean yourself up." Sherlock said, pulling out of him. John heard the sound of a zipper and a belt through his shock and heard the door unlock. It opened and closed quietly and John just stood there stunned, feeling cum dripping out of him and the hot stain in the front slowly began to cool. He did only what he could do, he pulled up his pants, did up his jeans and walked back out to the table. 

He was met with not only a calm and smiling Sherlock, but a Sherlock that was eating. John slid into the booth next to him, placed a single hand on the closest of Sherlock's knees and began to eat himself. The man had wonderful taste in food, but John couldn't keep his mind from wondering why Sherlock would buy him new pants and then do something like this. He wanted to ask, but from the line of conversation that Sherlock had started, knowing the answer to that question was obviously not going be shared. John smiled and scooted closer, talking about their latest case and the melting point of several bodily functions, one in particular causing John to blush until dessert arrived and Sherlock paid the check.

Sherlock stood and offered his hand to John, who took it and they held hands out of the restaurant and to the street, where Sherlock hailed a cab and got them safely back to Baker Street. In comparison to earlier in the evening, their second cab ride was rather chaste. Sherlock hadn't let go of his hand, and John realized that Sherlock's thumb was tracing little circles into his own. It was surprisingly romantic for the man who didn't believe in romance. They were both rather quiet, just sitting and enjoying the space of knowing they were together. Sherlock thanked the cabbie before John realized it, payed him and they were standing in front of their flat. Sherlock grabbed his other hand and they stood there in the open night air for a moment. Sherlock looked like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure of how to get it communicated across right. John just tugged Sherlock's arms toward him and wrapped him in a gentle hug. Sherlock, surprised by this sudden expression of affection, stuttered for a moment before relaxing into the hug. 

"Come, John. I'm not through with you yet..." Sherlock murmured into his hair. John chuckled and sighed.

"If your stamina is always like this, I don't think either of us will be working any time soon..." John laughed back to him.

"If I have proven anything to you today, it should be that I am one for improvisation." Sherlock responded, pulling slightly away from John and moving toward the door. John blushed and nodded in approval, though he couldn't think of a single excuse for getting caught having sex at a crime scene. Or, God forbid, the Yard. It wouldn't matter in the end, the whole police force had been assuming they were together since John had shown up at that first case. John was broken from his thoughts as he heard the door opened and he followed Sherlock up to their shared living room.

"So, yours or mine?" John asked stripping off his jacket once they passed the threshold. Sherlock was already without his jacket or scarf, looking at him with his arms crossed over his chest.

"No tea? No long exposition? No deep confessions?" Sherlock asked, unbuttoning a button on his shirt with each question. John was almost drooling at the sudden expanse of skin exposed to the open air. It had only been a few hours, but he couldn't believe how breathtaking the man before him still was. John gulped and shook his head. "Are you absolutely positive?" Sherlock asked, tugging his shirt from his jeans. "No questions? No concerns? Nothing?" Sherlock asked, now advancing on John while undoing the remaining buttons. John was almost hypnotized, but snapped his eyes up to Sherlock's, shaking his head again. "Why, John. You're a doctor. I had assumed there would be concerns..." Sherlock paused, letting his hands fall to rest on his hips. John suddenly realized what Sherlock was talking about. He smiled and pulled Sherlock's face down to meet his with a passionate and honest kiss.

"I know you better than that. You would never hurt me on purpose. Your brother works for the government. I know you've done your research..." John said before kissing his detective again, pressing their bodies together. Sherlock returned the kiss, desperation hidden inside the passion. "Besides..." John said, breaking the kiss and running his own tongue over his lips, tasting Sherlock still there. "We're soul mates." John whispered. The noise that came out of Sherlock sounded like a sob before he was attacking John's mouth with his own, urgently tearing at John's clothes and John let him. John fell onto the couch, shirtless and pulled a mostly shirtless Sherlock into his lap, their lips only losing contact for a second. John broke the kiss and slowly slid Sherlock's shirt off his shoulders. "Perfect..." He said, running a tan hand over Sherlock's pale chest. Sherlock moaned. "I love you... Sherlock." Sherlock moaned louder before a growl ripped out of him, and he was attacking John's mouth again before breaking the kiss himself.

"You talk too much." Sherlock said, biting at John's lower lip.

"You offered." John countered, hands busy with unfastening Sherlock's jeans.

"I regret that, get in my bedroom." Sherlock rushed out, forcibly pushing himself out of John's lap. 

"Yes, master." John said, pushing himself slowly to standing, running a well seen hand over his own erection straining in his jeans. Sherlock nearly whimpered as John started teasing his jeans open.

"I said bedroom." Sherlock said, grabbing John's wrist and pulling him toward the bedroom. John was smiling like a fool the entire way.

Sherlock threw him on the bed before shucking himself of his own pants, turning his attention to John who was lazily stroking himself through his jeans. He winked at Sherlock, who shivered before crawling up John's body, kissing his way up his chest. Sherlock snaked a hand between the two of them and skillfully undid John's jeans with one hand. John moaned as he felt the heat and the hardness of Sherlock's erection suddenly pressing against his own.

"You talk too much..." Sherlock said, in between sucking marks onto John's neck while rutting against him. John was lost in sensation before those words snapped him slightly back towards reality.

"W-what...?" John asked, genuinely confused.

"I want your pants..." Sherlock moved and stripped off his jeans. "But I don't want you to move..." Sherlock climbed on top again, grabbing John's wrists and pushing them into the mattress with one strong hand. "Do you trust me, John?" Sherlock asked, licking teasingly at John's lips. 

"Of course I do, master. I've always trusted you..." John tried to capture that tongue with his lips. "Sherlock..." He paused, capturing those insane grey eyes with his own. "I will always trust you..." And then a sound reached his ears that he hadn't heard in some time. A slick sound of sliding metal and John felt his breath catch. John knew what a swtich blade sounded like. Suddenly, shiny metal swam into his vision. Sherlock was showing him the weapon, trusting him as well. 

"I sleep with it under my pillow. Guns are messy and dealing with the safety upon waking has always been a bit of an issue..." Sherlock said as he admired the blade. "Besides, why would I need a gun now?" Sherlock said, pecking softly at John's open lips. Sherlock slowly straddled John, pulling himself up to sitting but still holding John's arms down. John shivered as the cold metal touched his skin. There was no pressure, just a hint of cold steel against his hot senses. Sherlock pulled it down John's side until it reached the hem of John's underwear. The knife was sharper than he expected, evidence in how easily it cut through the cloth on one side before Sherlock switched hands and did it to the other. John was harder than he had ever been in his life and moaned obscenely as Sherlock ripped the shreds of the red pants off him. Their cocks finally brushed together and John bucked into the man sitting on top of him. John opened his mouth to say something, but Sherlock stuffed his cum stained pants into his mouth. John moaned around the sudden invasion of fabric and taste. His eyes almost popped out of his head when Sherlock also pulled a tube of lube out from under his pillow. Along with a pair of handcuffs. Sherlock swiftly clicked them on John's wrists after kissing each one.

"This is something I've wanted forever, John. Thinking about you, all your power..." Sherlock was sliding a finger down John's chest. "Taken away and made mine. You're so helpless right now and yet you are still the most powerful person in this room. It's fascinating. My power is only determined by you, how far I go..." Sherlock leaned down and started sucking on one of John's nipples, causing a muffled moan. "You've been so perfect, John. So obedient. So submissive. Everything I've ever wanted." He moved over to the other nipple, pulling another moan out of the man beneath him. "Which is exactly why I want to do this..." John heard the cap pop open but was surprised to not feel a cold slick finger against him, not like he needed it. John looked up at Sherlock in time to see those big eyes flutter closed. It was hard not to cum right there in that moment. Apparently both of them were going to have a dream come true, but right now, John was lost in watching Sherlock finger himself. He felt his own fingers twitching to do it himself.

"You're going to feel so good inside of me, John. So hard, so thick... splitting me in half." Sherlock moaned, John suspected more fingers. "I want to ride you and feel you cum inside me..." Sherlock moaned again, a little more broken and needy now, a flush spreading down his chest. John was panting through his gag and was shifting excitedly. Sherlock gently pulled the gag out of his mouth and kissed John deeply.

"Fucking god, Sherlock. Please... I need you." John admitted between kisses. He wanted so bad to hold his new lover but John kissed back harder as he felt a lube covered hand wrap around his cock and hold it steady. Then all the sudden there was heat, tightness, and whiteness edging his vision. John's mouth was open in a silent moan, lost in the sensation of Sherlock sinking onto him. Sherlock looked vulnerable, needy and so ecstatically happy. Finally settling back into John's lap, he shifted slightly to kiss John before he started to rock slowly. John was so close already that he decided to busy himself trying to get out of the handcuffs. Touching the beautiful man riding him was his only thought at the moment. It felt so good. John couldn't remember the last time sex had felt this good. Sherlock was moaning and rocking himself on John's cock, John's name spilling from his lips. It was slow and perfect and... 

In a flurry of motion that surprised both men, Sherlock was pinned under the soldier. John had finally freed one hand which was enough to flip them over and give Sherlock the proper fucking he deserved. Sherlock gasped and sounded like he was about to protest, but John silenced him with a powerful kiss and started to thrust deeply into Sherlock. It was John's turn to leave bruises and marks, John's turn to be in command. It was almost better than being told what to do...

"Harder, John. Fuck me..." Sherlock breathed and it was back. John obeyed completely, fucking Sherlock hard and deep, finally angling right and hitting Sherlock's prostate. Sherlock was babbling now, begging for everything, for more. John was so close and he leaned into Sherlock's ear.

"Cum for me, Sherlock." He commanded and the man beneath him fell. Sherlock came with a silent scream, fingers digging into John's shoulders, cum shooting hot across both their chests. He got so tight, John came deep and hard, biting onto Sherlock's shoulder to keep from screaming himself. Once the fuzzy aftershocks had worn off, John pressed himself into Sherlock's chest, kissing and licking the cum off him, earning him little happy moans.

"That was unexpected..." Sherlock whispered breathlessly, obviously enjoying the sight of John cleaning them both up. With his mouth no less. Sherlock's vision nearly blacked out as John softly tongued the semen off his sensitive cock.

"You loved it, you twat." John said with a chuckle before pulling out of him softly and curling up close next to him.

"I love you, John." Sherlock stated simply, twisting their limbs together. John smiled and pulled the comforter over them with some shifting.

"For the first time, I really hope Lestrade doesn't text tomorrow. I still have more ideas..." Sherlock admitted, tracing patterns over John's skin. John squeezed him a little closer.

"Does this mean you'll eat again tomorrow?" John asked with a smile.

"I need to keep up my energy, I have a lot to make up for." Sherlock said, sleep dripping into his voice.

"We both do. I love you too, you know." John said, kissing Sherlock's head through his curls. Sherlock hummed happily and John reached over to turn out the light. They were bathed in moonlight in Sherlock's bed. John smiled as Sherlock's breathing rapidly got more even, and John fell asleep to that sound, the warmth and the thought of all the more fun they were going to have together now. Case or not.


End file.
